The wagon Zipper acquired was serviceable, but hardly in top condition. As for the two donkeys that came with it, one was old and fat, and the second young and scrawny. “I’m not sure which is worse”, said Zipper. “We’ll be constantly pulling to the left.”

The road out of Crebanne that headed towards Metzre was not much of a thoroughfare. Once out of sight of the village it became a deeply rutted track. Fortunately, the weather had not been rainy recently and the mud was dry enough not to offer any hindrance.

Since this was brigade property, and not just something borrowed, they could modify it as needed. Delta worked away, snagging sticks from roadside thickets, and rigged up a covered portion, where Gwen could sleep by day and the two humans sleep by night. She cut the ends off the rope and made loops for them to store their pole arms in secure, but readily accessible positions.

“We must be getting serious”, quipped Zipper. “We’ve got a baggage train now!”

Delta patted the side of the wagon as she walked along next to it. “The brigade is definitely going places. With our daytime and nighttime shifts, we could make really good time.”

“Especially if the donkeys didn’t need to sleep”, said Zipper.

Delta ratcheted her expectations back. “There is that.” She looked up at the sun, which was getting lower. “Well, let’s make what distance we can today.”

“Sure”, said Zipper. “It’s not like we can miss the trail. The ruts are so deep we’d have trouble going anywhere other than the trail.”

Gwen perked up a while later and they continued talking to each other, expanding their vocabulary to the flora, fauna, and geographical features they could pick out in the fading light.

It was fully dark when Gwen spied another tower of similar design to Banbury Tower that Delta had her on the lookout for. She had seen this on the map, and it seemed a good stopping point.

“Should we scare the crap out of them with the stories of our last visit?” asked Zipper.

Delta shook her head. “I’m kind of inclined to avoid towers all together.” The eaves of another forest had been closing on the road from the western side. “Let’s see if we can get the wagon out of these ruts and find somewhere in a thicket where the woods start out of view of the road.”

“I’ll miss a fire”, said Zipper, “But at least we’ll be off the ground.”

With everyone out of the wagon, it wasn’t too hard to coax it over the turf. Gwen scouted about a bit and gave them the thumbs up for the location. They settled down and ate the choicest part of the provisions they had brought.

“We won’t make it all the way to Metzre tomorrow”, said Delta. “But we should get most of the way there. I don’t expect there to be much ahead on the road. It’s behind us I’m more concerned about.” She tried switching to goblin. “Forward, no danger. Backward, maybe danger. Gwen scout backward, until sun.”

Gwen understood the gist of what she wanted, but they went over the grammar a few times. They were doing pretty good on basic nouns and verbs. Stringing them together is where things got complicated.

After they had eaten, Gwen loped off on Johnston. Zipper combed down the donkeys and staked them out on a long tether. Delta rearranged the blankets to suit the two of them, cleaned and stowed the dinnerware.

“Next village”, said Delta, “we need to pick up a saw and some basic tools. It would be nice to have set places to stow our things.”

“Village girl”, said Zipper, teasingly. “We country folk would just throw it all in a sack, barbarians that we are.”

Delta smiled. “Yep. I’m flashing back to the town carpenter. You got me there.”

“What you really want is a gypsy caravan. We’d get those passing through in Galacia. They were built to be lived in. All sorts of nooks and crannies. Great for contraband.” She laughed. “Not much chance of that though. They’d cut you six ways to Tuesday just for asking a price.”

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“I’m not sure it would work if we ever get up to a full six”, said Delta.

“We’d just have to get two!”, said Zipper. They watched the stars for a while. “Who do you plan to get for the next three?”

Delta snorted. “I didn’t exactly plan to get a nocturnal archer as the third. I didn’t even really plan on being Captain. It just sort of happened.”

Zipper let that sit for a bit, and then said, “You’re good at it.” Delta made a deprecating noise. “No, really. Far better than I would ever be.” She considered. “Well, I’d be terrible. I think we both know that. But even so.”

“Let’s just see how things go”, said Delta. “I just keep hoping that, maybe, we’ll meet up with another brigade that is short three, and we’d just join them and be done with it.”

Zipper huffed. “Doesn’t seem likely. As you said, we’re kind of a random collection. Who would take us?” She shifted around under her blanket. “Besides. We’re Wight’s Brigade. They should join us.”

“Thank you for your confidence”, said Delta, only a little sarcastically. “Let’s just see what we can make of it.”

They fell quiet then, and then fell asleep. Delta woke a few times, and waited for a bit, trying to work out what had roused her. But all she heard were night noises. At least until a bit before morning when Gwen returned.

She had lit a small fire and was boiling water. The thin moon had risen in the sky, heralding the sun. “Breakfast”, Gwen explained. “Then report.”

Delta nodded, and then began the process of waking Zipper up. By the time Zipper was coherent, Gwen had a porridge boiled of some oats they had brought and scraps of dried food they had left.

“It’s not what I would have made”, said Zipper. “But it’s hot and I’m not complaining.”

“How far?” asked Delta when they were all settled. The sun was just starting to rise.

Gwen nodded and focused. “Saw village. Road guards.” She tapped the side of her cheek. “Went more. Saw bridge. Bridge guards.” She tapped her cheek again. “Went more. Saw fires. Six fires in woods. Large fires. Camp fires.”

“They are coming that way”, said Zipper. “The guy should have listened to you.” Delta motioned her calm. Gwen wasn’t finished.

“Johnston smell. No army. Just fires.” Gwen nodded. “Like Lyre. No army.”

Delta snapped her fingers. “Tricks. Tricks. These insurgents are all about tricks. They’re always wanting you to think they are where they aren’t.”

“Sounds pretty smart to me”, said Zipper.

“Yes”, said Delta, rubbing her head. “It’s textbook. Everyone knows that. But few people can pull it off.” She looked back to Gwen and switched to goblin. “Good. Very good. Same plan. We go to Metzre. Tell all.” She pointed at Gwen. “You see. We tell. Count happy.” Then she shrugged, and continued in her normal language, “At least I hope he’s happier than the Baronet was.”

“Oh”, said Zipper, “I think the Baronet is happier with you now.”

Delta finished her bowl. “We’d best be moving on as promptly as possible. We should get in what training we can as we go. I have a feeling this insurrection is going to go on a lot longer than people think. At least as long as they keep underestimating this guy.”

In the early morning and early evening, they positioned Gwen in the seat and let her take the reins up. With her hood up, and all bundled in the blanket, she still had misgivings. Zipper assured her it was easy and encouraged her to give the donkeys goblin names.

While Gwen drove, Delta and Zipper walked alongside of the cart, practicing maneuvers. They shared tips with one another that they had learned. Both weapons were designed for group combat, and both were used to fighting in teams. But they had only used the basics when fighting together.

A glaive is a formidable weapon. The sharp tip allows it to be stabbed like a spear, although the other protrusions narrowed the gap into which it could be thrust. It had a long-edged blade running down the leading edge, which could be brought down with great leverage. Enemies would need a helmet and pauldrons to blunt its strike and, even so, the momentum alone would be enough to stun an enemy with its impact, or to drive the armor into them causing broad bruises. Or, worst of all, denting the armor so that even after the strike finished the dent would still press into them causing pain and inhibiting motion for the rest of the fight.

But one of the distinguishing features of the glaive was that it had a prong jutting from the trailing edge. It was not particularly sharp, or particularly pointed, but it was sturdy and well anchored to the haft. This could be used in many ways to snag an opponent, their shield, or their weapon. It wasn’t barbed, so it wouldn’t hold them long. But that also meant the wielder had the freedom to release them when they wanted, if they saw a more advantageous tactical situation.

What the hook did require was coordination. Just fouling an opponent didn’t win the fight. The key was to set them up to be vulnerable to a strike from a comrade. And that’s what they put their effort into with their training. They had different names for their moves that they had to harmonize, so that they could efficiently communicate what each was doing or suggesting to the other.

So, for much of the day, when Gwen wasn’t asleep, the trailed along behind the wagon, pretending its back was a big scutum shield, and practiced their maneuvers against it.

In her turn, by night when the others were asleep, Gwen went back to bow practice. A few hours at stationary targets from the ground, and then she and Johnston went hunting. She didn’t hit many things, and lost a number of arrows, but she was more confident in it by the end.